I have not covered myself with glory in this National Monthly Journal challenge. There are reasons, but they read more like excuses, so I will try not to cite them, here. Instead, I will admit my failure and move on. Failure, despite embarrassment, can be gift, too, provided one learns something from it. As for this particular failure, I am still trying to process what it is I should be learning. The tricky thing, for me, will be to recognize this failure as a particular circumstance and not brand myself, because of it, as A Failure, which is, too often, my wont.
It may surprise some that I am discussing this misadventure so openly. More often than not, the inclination is to bury our mis-steps, hoping that if they are perceived by others, they will at least not be underlined. However, I’ve come to the conclusion that having been willing to take bows had I succeeded, I need to be just as willing to take the tomatoes because I haven’t. It may be that possible response arising from this attempt at candor will be part of a learning process.
I am considering a personal adjustment to the original challenge. That adjustment would be to continue to write my “whatevers” in as disciplined a manner as I can, until they reach thirty separate entries. This modification of the rules will not meet the challenge’s original perimeters, but it may serve to afford me some private satisfaction, some personal face-saving. I recently viewed a documentary about Michelangelo (I forget the title) which illustrated that even he had his failures and adjustments. The astute reader will notice the hint of an excuse, for my challenge misadventure, in that last sentence.
Moving on, we had a few tantalizing promises of Spring early in the month, but we have been plunged back into Winter’s chill. The temperature in Chicago, as I write this, is 43F (6.1C) and feels even colder because of strong winds; a semi-frost condition is promised for overnight. Is Spring being held for ransom?
Some weather mavens have said that our April temperatures have been a bit less than average. Thank the great whatever. I thought I was going to have start serving cheese with my whine.
Image: From image as published in The Unbearable Truth blog.